It Was All For You
by adventuresinstorybrooke
Summary: Snow and Emma journey to the wardrobe in FTL, but Snow believes that the wardrobe can only take one; as it did last time. She will have to force her daughter to go through alone. Again. In the dark of the night, she writes a letter to her daughter to secretly tuck inside her jacket before she goes through. So that Emma will know everything she'll never get to say. One-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Credit to: mine-everything from Tumblr for the idea. She pointed out that Snow still thinks that the wardrobe can only take one, so when they set out to find it did she plan on only sending Emma through? That's what I think anyways. So here's what came of my thoughts on it.**_  
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_My darling Emma,_

_I know that once you find this, we will have been forced worlds apart-at my own hand-and I am so very sorry for that. I vowed once that I would never lose you again but I have come to realize that if losing you means that you will be safe, then any sacrifices on my part are well worth the pain and suffering. I understand if you resent me again, knowing that I've left you to return home alone, but please try to forgive me someday._

_Maybe now you will grasp why I was so forward in my attempts to get to know you along our journey to the castle. The minute I realized that there was a chance to get home, but that only passage for one would be possible, I knew that I'd be forced to send you off alone. Most likely against your will. But please, Emma, before you blame yourself or build your walls even higher, know that I didn't abandon you. I needed you to return home. To Henry. And you father. They both need you, more than you know._

_Henry, he's such a fine young man. You should be proud. But please, just try to picture if it were the two of you in this situation. And before you get angry and think that it's a completely different story, that Henry's just a child, I will tell you it is not at all different. Henry is a child to you, just as you are a child to me. My child. Though you may be a strong, radiant, and brave, grown woman now, I will never be able to look at you without seeing the baby I held in my arms for mere minutes before she was whisked away. And I hope you can forgive me for that._

_Know this, Emma; from the minute I knew of your existence, you have been my world. Even in my years under the curse I believe I was always searching for you. There was void in my soul as Mary Margaret that was only filled once you became a part of my life. I don't think I ever knew the extreme strength of love until you. I remember spending nights talking to you before you were born, I'd sit out in the cool air on the balcony off your nursery, and just tell you stories. Some of them were about my life as a young girl, losing my own mother; and at the time I had promised so fervently that I would never allow the same to happen to you. How cruel fate can be._

_But other times I would tell you stories of the future. The many adventures we would go on, your first lesson on how to ride a horse, or Red and I teaching you how to track, and—not without argument on my part—you father showing you how to wield a sword. But none of that ever came to fruition. For that I am sorry. But those are things that mattered more to me than they ever would for you. You spent your entire life without someone to hold you, or comfort you, or scold you in the way that only a loving parent can. And for that I am more sorry. Every moment that you experienced pain, the ones you had clued me in on as your roommate, or the ones that have gone unspoken for years, I wish with all of my being that I could have been there for you. My sweet, beautiful, Emma._

_There is so much more I wish to say to you, knowing that these may be the last words that I ever send your way, but I cannot seem to make more. I promise, to my death, I will forever search for ways to get back to you. But in order for me to do that I need YOU to promise ME something. Do not do the same. Allow yourself to find happiness, don't risk your own life to try to return to me. There is no way, you know that. And PLEASE Emma, do NOT dwell upon all the things that went unsaid. I know you, you'll spend months thinking of all the things you never said, you may convince yourself that I thought you hated me, or that you didn't love, but Emma…I know all of those things are not true. I'm your mother, after all. _

_One last thing, my dear Emma. I love you. I love you, I have always loved you, and I always will. You, despite what you may think, deserve more love than this universe can even offer. I am so unbelievably proud of the woman you have become, you really are so much like your father and I, and yet your own person. Do not ever doubt for a second that you were wanted. Sending you away was the most difficult decision I have ever had to make, and possibly my greatest regret. And yet I know it was still the right thing to do. Without it you wouldn't the daughter that I see sleeping next to me as a write this. The daughter that warms my heart in everything she does and is._

_My greatest hope is that before I force you to leave me, I get one more chance to hold you in my arms. To stroke your golden curls, and feel you hold me back. There is no place I would rather be. You keep me moving forward. Always._

_I love you Emma. With all my heart, with all my soul, with everything I have._

_Don't ever forget it._

_I love you,_

_Mom_

Salty tears drip onto the paper leaving painful craters of moisture. Snow wipes vigorously at her eyes and tries to compose herself before her daughter awakens to take her shift to watch the camp. Watching Emma sleep she can only help but hope that her daughter can forgive her one day for what she's planning to do once the wardrobe is in working order.

Getting to her feet she walks over to the blonde silently and kneels down to place a soft touch on her cheek. "Emma. Emma wake up. It's your turn."

Her daughter stirs and rubs the sleep from her eyes with the meat of her palms. Once she notices the identity of her awakener her face brightens softly and a hint of a smile plays on her lips. Snow offers her hand and helps Emma stand, letting her fingers linger before releasing and taking Emma's place on the ground. She curls into herself tightly and forces her eyes to close. What's ahead is unbearable. But it's for Emma. She has to remind herself of that. That squirming baby that she grasped in her arms. The child she never got to raise and will never see again. It's all for her.

_Emma._

**I hope you liked it! Reviews would always be greatly appreciated.**_  
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**And if you like this sort of theorizing, check out my tumblr (same as my author name). I do most of it there. It just bled into a fic this time :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**After so many requests I decided to whip up a little sequel chapter for you all. It might be a little rough, but I hope you like it :) **

_"Don't ever forget it. I love you, Mom."_ Emma feels her whole body shaking, whether out of emotional pain or burning anger she doesn't spend time deciding. Before she can think any longer she's leapt from her seat near the stream and is heading toward the only person her mind can see. Her mother.

She storms into the camp with the letter grasped tightly in her fist. Her face is a fiery red and it's clear that she's been crying but is now covering it with a threateningly calm demeanor. All three of the women sitting near the fire turn to look at her but quickly realize that her darkened eyes only bear down on one of them. Snow.

"What the hell is this?" she speaks firmly, trying to contain her urge to just yell.

Snow gasps when she realizes what the crumpled paper is. She subconsciously looks down at her pockets and pats them in disbelief. Her mouth hangs open and she scrambles to gather her thoughts and understand what is happening; how the world seems to be slipping out from under her feet as her daughter stands there visibly trembling with fury.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

"How did you—"

Emma's brow dips in the center and a thin veil of water shines on her eyes. "I found THIS in the tent after you got up from your rest."

The blonde stalks forward into the encampment, but maintains her distance. Mulan eyes Aurora nervously. The princess nods away from her and the two scurry off mumbling something about firewood. Emma watches them go before turning her stony gaze back to a pale Snow, who now has a single tear running down her cheek.

"Emma please…" she begs, stepping forward. Emma was never meant to find the letter. Not after the reason for it had come and passed. The words on its pages belonged in the air, not on the parchment. Snow just hadn't been able to say them yet. Not when Emma was running off and climbing beanstalks right and left. The letter had only been a last resort, a back-up, a mother's attempt at preparing for the worst. Snow refused to be ashamed of the words. She wouldn't regret them.

"Mary Margaret. Don't." Emma's voice is low but strong. Wind gushes through the trees, suddenly making Snow feel incredibly aware of their surroundings. "WHAT is this?"

"What happened to going home together? To being there for each other?" The blonde's jaw is clenched and the words fire from her tongue.

"I _understand_ that you feel like you have this duty to put me first. And to be the hero. I know the stories, the vows, the gallant feats of chivalry. But I'm not a child. I watched out for myself for twenty eight years. I sure as hell don't need it now."

Snow's eyes darken. She can tell that Emma is doing what Emma does best. Running. But since there's nowhere to go she's instead trying to chase her off. And her primary tactic is by spewing hate, especially when it targets the extremely sensitive topic of her own life and whom she, somewhere deep down, blames for it. Snow and Charming.

Snow's face hardens and she steps forward but she immediately regrets it when something visibly snaps inside Emma and instantly the blonde's expression bears a weight of a world of emotion. Emotion that she's so fervently fighting against.

"I TRUSTED you." The words are now like fire. Every syllable is true. "And what you said in here?"

Emma grasps the sheet with both hands and tears at it viciously. "It's CRAP. ALL OF IT." Emma's head falls back and she lets out a frustrated cry, before moving her eyes back to Snow. "You _know_ how hard it is for me to trust people… to let them in. _And you took advantage of that_." The younger woman's face is twisted as she fights with herself. She knows her mother was only showing her the purest forms of love in her intentions but it all feels so much like a betrayal. Like her worst fears are coming true.

Snow inhales sharply at every sentence, her own body now quivering. Her eyes fight her, wanting to close and block it out but she refuses to turn away from her daughter. Emma may despise her, but she can never let her daughter alone when she is so obviously hurting.

"You're supposed to be my MOTHER." The dam breaks and hot tears finally spring forth from the corners of Emma's eyes. Her throat is raw and catches on every strangled word. She can feel her wall falling against her will and she's scrambling to fix it.

Emma knows somewhere within her that she shouldn't be reacting this way. That she should be understanding. Her mother only wants to protect her. But the overwhelming knowledge that Snow was going to abandon her once again sends her mind into survival mode. She has to protect herself, it's the only way she's ever known. It's too painful to keep letting people in when they're only going to break her heart or leave her behind.

"You promised. You _promised me_ we'd stay together_. I believed you_. And you _lied_. You're abandoning me. AGAIN." Emma's vision is blurring, her anger being replaced by anguish. She'd managed to maintain the protective cover of hatred by keeping the identities neutral. But she'd broken and called Snow her mother. Her mother. She can't handle rejection from her own mother. This woman who was supposed to raise her and love her is throwing her away for a second time. Leaving her all alone again.

Her cries are hoarse. "YOU CAN'T," Emma suddenly chokes, a sob crawling from her throat. "DO THIS. TO ME." Another sob escapes and her face twists in a look of pure emotional pain. Her shoulders lurch forward and her torso concaves. The hand holding the pieces of the torn letter clenches tighter, her knuckles bursting a sickly white. She folds in half, remaining in place and struggles to regain her breath.

Snow rushes forward but Emma's other hand flies upward, commanding her to stop.

"NO," she cries. "NO. Please." Her voice is pleading, pain oozing off her tongue. Pain, betrayal, and a destruction of trust. Painful sobs leave her chest heaving as the raised arm recoils and wraps around her abdomen, clenching every muscle she has in attempts to halt the uncontrollable emotions that are pouring from her. She's finally broken.

Snow refuses to be held off any longer and launches her arms around Emma's quaking form. Twenty-eight years of heartache have finally erupted through the layers of her walls. The brunette holds her daughter furiously, letting her release the tears that have been brewing for all this time.

"I DON'T," Emma's breath is heaving and she struggles to speak. "Know why. I'm like. THIS." Her head is muddled and she can't seem to control it. Her entirely form is trembling and the tears continue to pour down her cheeks. There's nothing she can do to stop it. And yet through all of it she suddenly feels calm. Snow's hand rubs soft circles on her back and holds her close. The action is almost what's keeping her sane.

The words burn fresh in Snow's mind. _You can't do this to me._ That's all that it was ever about. Emma had spent months slowly letting Mary Margaret in, and growing to love her and trust her, and then as her mother, Snow worked away at the barriers that appeared after the curse was broken. But those obstacles had been removed as well. Emma had tested and retested her, her only coping mechanism. She tried her patience, attempted to hold her own, defied her, ran away, ordered Mulan to cut down that beanstalk and save Snow. All of it was a subconscious test.

And Snow had passed. Emma finally let her heart trust her, and believe her, that she would never abandon her or leave her behind. And yet that was exactly what she had planned to do. Snow had never imagined the weight of such a sacrifice. All she thought about was saving her little girl. The little girl who was far more emotionally damaged than she ever could have imagined. That knowledge split her heart in two.

"I'm sorry," Snow whispers earnestly into Emma's wild hair. "I'm so, so sorry. I never, ever, meant for you to feel abandoned."

She's sure her apologies have fallen on deaf ears, but Emma finally nods her head, almost imperceptibly, and hugs her mother back tighter. The blonde's fingers curl stiffly into Snow's sweater, as though the woman might fade from existence as she holds her. Emma quickly lessens her grip and pulls away. Her cheeks are still streaked with tears, but her resolve has seemingly hardened once again. Focusing inward she brings her expression to one of calm.

She knows if she looks at Snow and isn't concentrating hard enough, she'll break again and continue to cry. Snow notices this and decides to find the best way to continue the moment.

"Why don't we sit? And," she hesitates, "Only if you'll let me—I'll try to explain why I wrote that letter. And we can talk through it. Alright?"

Emma doesn't speak, but instead sits obediently against a nearby tree. As she positions herself, she very obviously leaves a space next to her for Snow to sit; which the brunette happily takes. Just sharing a space with her daughter is enough to cause her heart to buzz. So, when Emma proceeds to rest her head on Snow's shoulder, the former schoolteacher feels like her chest might explode.

Testing her limits, she moves her arm around the blonde's shoulders and is surprised to not feel her pull away. Snow shuts her eyes for a minute, somewhat preparing herself for the lengthy explanation she's about to give, and silently hopes that she'll be able to say the right things. In all the months she's known Emma, she's never worried so much about her words. But now, it's so different.

She opens her mouth and her chest rises in preparation to begin talking, but Emma's soft voice breaks the silence and stops her.

"Before…Before you begin, can I just ask you one thing?" Emma pauses and waits for Snow to hum her consent. "I know it's probably childish. But let's be honest, after today's display I'm surely past that point…"

Snow's face tightens as Emma berates herself for her outburst.

Emma exhales, the air quivering as it leaves her lungs. "Can you just promise me that you won't do it again? You made me promise that I won't sacrifice myself for you. And I just…I need you to do the same. I know I'm supposed to be your kid and you want to protect me, but if either of us is going to agree to not make sacrifices, we have to make sure that the other won't either."

"So, can you just do that? Promise me that?" Emma's eyes stare outward into the dimming light and she waits patiently for her answer.

Snow's thoughts are heightened and she contemplates the best way to answer. She will, of course, make that promise. She never again wants her daughter to feel like she'll be left alone for a second time. But she knows Emma will be concentrating her entire consciousness on the answer, reading it and using that "superpower" that she always tells Henry about, to decide whether or not Snow means it. And her deduction could alter their entire relationship from here on out. That thought alone makes her suddenly nervous.

But there's nothing else she can do besides answer honestly.

"Yes. I promise. You did so, and I will do the same."

Snow holds her breath while Emma seemingly scans the answer. After a few seconds she feels Emma's weight relax into her. Snow's eyes well up at the subtle action. _Trust._

Something so hard to get from Emma. Only now she will always have to work to keep it. So why not begin with a few stories?

"Did I ever tell you that letters are kind of a _thing _in our family?" She feels Emma's head shift, giving a movement that she translates as a "no"—not that she expected a different answer.

"Yes. Well, they are. Your father wrote the first one, _many _years ago. Before we were married."

And so the story begins to unfold. Into the early morning the two sit there, Snow doing most of the talking, and allowing Emma to just absorb the information.

In her mind, the more she knows about the past and how much love had existed, that she would have been brought into, and how many times her parents and their friends had stood by each other, the better. Maybe she'll see that trust isn't such a bad thing after all. It may leave you more vulnerable but the love can also make you complete.

Complete, whole, and most of all: happy.

**Also sorry for not updating Brown Curls and Green Eyes recently. Life is insane until break starts in two weeks. Then I'm off for 6 weeks. Woop. Reviews are appreciated. Do you think I did the characters justice in this sort of situation?**


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